


Best Intentions

by DiamondTook



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondTook/pseuds/DiamondTook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Scoobies had found out during Dead Things?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Bronze

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: Mid-Season 6, during Dead Things  
> Spoilers: Up to the finale of BTVS Season 6  
> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor do I claim to. They all belong to Joss, I'm just sticking them into alternate realities and watching them go.  
> Profuse thanks to my wonderful betas: lusciousxander, ever_neutral and ghostyouknow, and to snickfic for letting me bounce thoughts off her about the overall story. Any mistakes are a result of me fiddling with it after it was looked at. I also want to thank moscow_watcher for reccing this fic on the Buffyverse Top 5. I'm terribly grateful. :)

Buffy slumped against the guardrail. God, why did she keep letting him get to her like that? Why did she let him manipulate her so easily? Make her do things she would never – Not if she were herself. And she knew that, knew there was something dark and twisted deep inside her that couldn't really be her, that enjoyed what Spike did, that relished releasing control, that almost wished her friends would – No, they could never know. They'd never understand.

Willow breathed heavily, recovering from the vigorous dancing the three of them had been enjoying on the dance floor. Stepping off to the side for a moment, she glanced around the room, absently wondering where Buffy had disappeared to. It had been awhile since she had last seen her, and she hadn't seemed terribly chipper this evening. Maybe at the bar... She glanced up, her eyes passing over the balcony as she aimed toward the bar, and she caught a flash of blonde – Buffy?

The darkness obscured the view a bit, but yep, it was Buffy, looking exhausted and sad and, strangely, floppy, sandwiched between the railing and another patron.  
The other person was awfully close, nearly wrapped around her. She watched, a bit stunned, as a hand slowly slid down her friend's cheek, almost sensually, then a bowed head leaned into her ear to whisper something softly. He (she guessed it must be a he now, unless Buffy was hiding more than her usual depression and guilt behind that cheerful mask) finally pulled back, lifting his head and wrapping his coat around himself. He swiftly whirled around and melted into the shadows, leaving Buffy alone on the catwalk, gazing down.

Wait a minute. Was that Spike?


	2. Intervention

When Willow returned to the dance floor from the bathroom, she did her best to act normal. She giggled at Xander's jokes, she moved to the jive; but all the while a loud buzzing sound filled her head, drowning out the music.

Buffy and Spike. Buffy, willingly being near Spike. Really near. But was it willingly? Maybe he was just trying to be heard over the music. Maybe there was some big bad in town and Spike had information to share! So they could kill it! Cause demons, demons were bad - and Buffy would only be talking to Spike like that if something really bad were happening.

And maybe she had some dirt on her cheek too...

"Maybe chocolate," Anya's voice broke through her haze.

"What?" Willow lost the beat for a moment, startled.

"Maybe we should make little bags of chocolates for wedding favors! Everybody likes chocolate," she explained eagerly.

"Handmade wedding favors, classy but cheap!" Xander picked up the ball.

"And with a personal touch," Anya returned. "Maybe we could even get grub-filled ones for the demon guests."

"Uh, right," Willow hedged. " ‘Cause everybody loved maggots!"

"Let's ask Buffy what kind of chocolates she prefers. Maybe she likes to try new things." Anya looked a little huffy.

"Speaking of which, where is the Buffster? This shimmy is kind of lacking without it's fourth." Xander peered around the room.

"Buffy? Oh! I don't think you - I mean, she probably just went to get more lubrication or something. I mean beer!" Willow blustered. "You know what? I'll go look for her." She scurried away in the direction of the bar.

Xander looked after her, slightly confused. "You know, maybe we need to find her a girlfriend. Or at least a new pastime. Maybe crochet?"

Anya watched as Willow disappeared. "Not if that means having to squeeze one more person into the wedding party, Xander. We're already tossing your uncle Rory around like a beach ball trying to find room!"

"Well, maybe I should go after her, see if she's OK."

"You do that. I'll just be getting my groove on over here. But don't be too long! I like Willow and all, but there's no point in dancing alone when you have a fiancée to show off." Anya swished her head and returned to the music.

Xander grinned and took off after Willow, catching up with her by the steps to the balcony. He grabbed her arm. "Hey, Will, wait! What's going on?"

"Going on? Nothing's going on! Everything's fine here, Mister." Her voice only squeaked a little bit.

"Right. I can see that you're all Finey McFinester, Will, which is why you just ran away as fast as humanly possible." He looked at her kindly, his eyes asking for her to let him in.

Willow sighed. It would be easier to just tell him and get his opinion too, right? She had meant to get to Buffy and ask her herself, but maybe Xander could tell her she was crazy. It was just a demon thing. It had to be. "I'm a little worried about Buffy."

She reluctantly described what she had seen from the dance floor. "But," she insisted, "it was dark! It might have been some other creepy blond guy. Hey! Maybe she has a secret boyfriend."

Xander laughed. "Sure, that'd be great. Just as long as her secret boyfriend isn't Spike."

"They weren't even that close, really. Like I said, he was probably just imparting some demon recon or something," Willow backpedaled. "Though he did... kind of... touch her cheek."

"He touched her?"

"Only a little bit. Less than a second, really."

Xander pondered this for a moment. "Ok. I think we need to have an intervention."

~

Soft light filled the lower level of the Summers’ home the next evening. The Scoobies had taken up positions throughout the living room. Xander sat in the comfy chair, Buffy occupied the couch by herself and Willow stood in the center of the room, pacing nervously. Finally, she walked over and perched lightly on the couch next to Buffy, poised on the edge as if ready to make a run for it.

Xander spoke up first. "I think we need to talk."

Buffy looked up as if noticing them for the first time. "Oh?"

"Willow saw you last night at the Bronze - on the catwalk."

Buffy squirmed, turning. "You saw me?"

"A-and Spike," Willow said hesitantly.

Buffy's hands shook lightly as she pulled them into her lap. "And Spike."

"She saw him get in your space. He was stroking your cheek. Whispering in your ear."

"Whispering." Buffy's breath hitched a bit, then calmed. "She saw him whispering."

"Buffy, if he's harassing you - "

"No Xander, we were just... talking."

"But he touched you! You don't just let people go around being all touchy. Especially not Spike."

"He might get the wrong idea," Willow added softly.

"Oh, he already has the wrong idea," Buffy muttered.

Xander frowned. "What do you mean?"

Buffy looked down at her lap, uncomfortable. Willow scooted closer, resting a hand on her knee. Buffy flinched slightly, and Willow pulled back. "Buffy, we understand if you don't want to talk about it. We just want to be here for you, and to make sure that he's not…" She paused. "Taking advantage of you." Her eyes flicked back to Xander. "We know you're not in the best place right now."

Not in the best place, right. Buffy looked away, shrinking into herself.Because what could be better than being having an unhealthy fascination for a vampire who's completely obsessed with you? Than trudging day after day through muck and dust and demon slime - which is the only relief you get from grease-friers and soul-sucking customers(sometimes literally, in this town)? No, not the only relief- but we're not thinking about that right now, are we, Buffy? We're not going to have that anymore after tonight anyway. Whether that's because beating Spike to a pulp made me realize that maybe I'm actually hurting him emotionally with this... thing we have, or because my ever-loving friends would never let me keep hurting myself this way - What does it matter?

"Nobody's taking advantage." Now that's not true either, is it?

"Does that mean that nothing's going on? Or does that just mean you don't wanna talk about it?" Xander's voice was hard.

Willow tried diplomacy. "We know it's not really our business, but -"

"Of course it's our business! We're her friends! We brought her back from–"

Willow's eyes widened.

"I mean..." Xander backtracked. "I don't mean…" He sighed. "What I really mean to say is: Buffy, we love you, and we don't want to see you get hurt."

"Can't you tell us what's going on?" Willow pleaded.

Buffy's lip began trembling. When her words finally came they had to strain to catch them.

"I'm not sure, I'm not sure I even know what's going on."

"But something is going on."

Willow glared at Xander.

"Yes." A hollow suddenly expanded in Buffy's chest. The first cut is the deepest. A weight that had been pressing down on her, choking her since that night in the abandoned building, slowly eased as she revealed her secret. It was like breathing again. "I - I've been spending more time with Spike lately, a lot more than anyone has realized. We're... involved."

Xander's face twisted in distaste, but he hid his reaction as much as he could. He looked a little like he was going to be sick.

Willow's eyes grew huge, confused and sympathetic. "How? Wait, not how, or at least, not specifically how, or at least not the way you told me the last time–well, I guess it was actually the Buffybot the last time, so you wouldn't even remember to know how to not to be sp..." Willow trailed off, breathed deeply, centering herself, and asked, "How long?"

"Since the spell. The musical spell?" Well, maybe actually after the frost monster, I mean when Warren and Jonathan stole the diamond, oh, and the other guy. Or, actually before. "It had been coming for a long time, but..." They waited for her to continue. "Yeah, I guess you could say since the spell." Now that it was coming out, Buffy spoke more freely.

"You mean I caused–" Xander didn't look any better.

"No, that may have been the first time we – No. It was coming for a long time. Since my resurrection."

It was Willow's turn to grimace. "Buffy-"

Buffy interrupted, the words coming slowly but inexorably, like she was sick and it just had to come out in bits and gobs, but when it was done she'd feel better... She hoped. "He was good to me, when I first came back, you know?" He just sat with me on the porch, or in his crypt. "I started going to him for... things." But he wanted more. We both wanted more– but different more. "I know I could never love him, that I shouldn't be with him." It wasn't like I decided to give him a chance. "It just kinda happened.” And then kept happening.

"What, you just fell on each other?" Xander sneered.

Buffy didn't listen. "And then it turned into a thing." A thing I keep doing, and I don't really know how to stop. "And now it's all messed up. Everything's fallen apart." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Spike showed me how much of a demon he still was last night."

"Buffy! Did he hurt you?" Willow gasped.

"Was?" echoed Xander, hopefully.

And I showed him the darkness inside too. I hurt him, but - "No, he's still alive, or undead. He didn't want me to turn myself in. He was wrong." She took a breath. "He tried to stop me, but I couldn't let him."

"But you weren't responsible!" Willow interjected.

"No, Warren was responsible." Buffy's face darkened. "He's the one who needs to be turned in. But I didn't know that."

"I think we're getting off topic here," Xander put in.

"Right," Willow changed her focus. "Buffy."

"No," He was getting slightly exasperated, "Spike."

Willow nodded, conceding. "So, what are we going to do about this?"

Buffy hesitated for a moment, then spoke firmly. "We aren't going to do anything. I am going to break up with him, uh, I mean end it, whatever it is- immediately." Buffy grew still. "It was a mistake."

Silence filled the room then, but the relief was palpable.

"Well ok!" Xander clapped his hands, aiming for casual. "Who wants pizza?"

~

Later that night, alone in her bed, Buffy finally allowed herself to cry.


	3. As Usual

Buffy walked briskly through the winding path of yet another graveyard. Her eyes drifted slowly over the graves, looking for signs of fresh-turned earth or any other obvious vampire activity. Her mind was lost in thought.

 _It's over._ She brushed past a marble angel. _It's a good thing! No more hiding, no more secrets, no more sneaking out of my room at 3am to do anything other than wrestle_ \- I mean, fight - _monsters. It's over, he's just the only one who doesn't know it yet, but I'll tell him as soon as I see him. It's really, definitely over._

A twig cracked behind her and she whirled around. "C'mon Sp-"

The bluish demon eyeing her turned its horns inward and stamped its foot on the ground. Nostrils flared and Buffy caught the stench of hot breath as it snorted roughly. _Hm, maybe I should have packed a cape. And how did I confuse that with -_

"Oof!" Buffy was down, trampled under massive black hooves as the creature barreled into her. She struggled upright just as it swung round and pawed the ground, preparing to charge again.

"Yeah! That's right, give it your best shot!" a shrill voice chirruped from behind some nearby gravestones.

"See, I told you it was the best sport in town," a deeper tone rang out.

"Bullfighting: the next generation. Yeehaw! You are a genius, Percival." The slap of a high five could be heard echoing through the cemetery.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Really, I have an audience for these things now? What kind of a name is Percival anyway?"

"Hey, my mum gave me that name!"

"Oh great," Buffy griped. "Just what I need, more British vampires."

"But I'm Welsh!"

Buffy was so caught up with the two ridiculous figures behind her that she nearly forgot about the blue behemoth still charging at her side. Just as she was about to be bowled over for the second time, a dark figure tackled her onto the grass. "Oof!" she gasped again. They rolled together for a few seconds, limbs flying in every direction, just long enough for her to recognize the body beneath her, before they suddenly jarred to a halt right under the vampire lookout-spot. Without warning the tackle became a pile-up. Both vampires jumped out of their hiding spots and joined the fray, and the raging demon chose that moment to trot forward and begin kicking anyone who tried to escape from the tangle.

Confusion reigned for a few minutes as arms flew, stakes struck, and bull-necks were eagerly wrenched. When the vampire-dust settled, all that was left was Spike and Buffy, panting, lying pressed together in the wet grass next to a large blue and very dead ox. Buffy quickly rolled off.

"Well, I hope Paul Bunyan won't be too hurt," Spike quipped, leaning back on one elbow and digging for a cigarette.

"Your foot has a what?" Buffy managed between breaths. She had a split-second flash of herself finding some sort of pus-filled boil wedged between his toes. Not that she _had_ to touch anything on his foot, or that he could make her. Besides, Spike was icky.

"No, the legend." He rolled his eyes, speaking slowly and annunciating clearly. "Paul Bunyan and the Big Blue Ox?" Buffy stared blankly, but inside she was slightly relieved. "Whatever. Never mind, pet." He lit his cigarette, but didn't smoke it.

The two continued to breathe heavily side by side until Spike began to lean toward Buffy. She tried not to look back, zeroing in on his lips as he drew near. His hand reached out to stroke her hair and Buffy jumped back, scooting frantically until she was a safe distance away again. She hoped.

Spike looked aggravated. "What is it now? Is this another one of those - " His voice took on a high, mocking quality. " _Oh I just can't be with you Spike, you're an evil, soulless, thing! I don't care how good you look naked._ "

Buffy stared intently at the headstone just to the right of his head, letting her impatience build. "Spike..."

Spike took a good look at her, realizing she was serious. "Oh come on!" he snorted. "What did I do this time? I saved you from the evil demon." Buffy's eyebrow quirked up. "OK _we_ fought the evil bull-thingy and it's strange and slightly off-putting fan club, but still." He slid closer to her. Buffy bristled, but didn't give as his eyes grew soft and he leaned in, brushing her bottom lip with his. "I thought we were getting along."

She appeared to ponder that, barely a breath away. "We were... sorta. Except for the whole moral incomprehension thing and the brilliant 'lure me into the shadows' plan." She stopped and pulled back, her voice dripping sarcasm. "Actually, come to think of it, I don't think we were getting along."

Spike inched closer, undeterred. "Well, there is one area where we've been getting along lately." His thumb took the long route down her arm, coming to rest lightly on her hip.

"What?" Buffy tried to focus on the fresh - and possibly vampiric! - grave lying about five plots away. "Oh, that." Her eyes drifted shut, then snapped open as her mind took control. "No, Spike." She jumped to her feet. "Not tonight."

He pouted, still stretched out on the grass. "Why not?"

"Because. Dawn." She looked vaguely in the direction of her home. "There's no one watching her right now and Willow doesn't get back from class until ten."

"Oh, that's always your excuse." He stood up too, the space no longer wide enough for her to catch her breath. "She's a growing girl, she can take care of herself. You're here now, aren't you? You must think she can manage alone for a little while."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "It wouldn't be a little while."

Spike grinned wickedly. "Well, I can't argue there."

"But I can." Buffy was adamant. She turned on her heel. "I need to go."

Spike grabbed her arm. She pulled back, squealing a little "No! Let go!" He pulled her back roughly towards him and she was crushed to his chest. She continued pushing for a few more moments before giving a sigh of defeat. His arms tightened around her and a hand reached to pull her chin up to his mouth, but she was already there. Her mind turned to jelly as he kissed her slowly, despite the force he had used, and she forgot again why she was so adamant. She struggled to clear her head. Oh right, Willow and her puppy-eyes. Well, what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

 _It really is over. I'll just tell him tomorrow._

~

Buffy groaned, sprawled haphazardly across the foot of the four-poster. She gingerly dragged herself upright, forcing her eyes open to scan the flickering shadows for her inevitably missing clothing. She determinedly ignored the murmurs of displeasure that drifted up from the area of her feet. Well, it was definitely later than she planned. Not that she had planned anything! She pulled her feet up to her chest and wrapped the sheet around her shoulders, shivering.

Well, at least she'd managed to avoid talking about anything of substance during her time there. Not that that was usually a problem for her, but Spike had been trying harder than usual to get her to have "the talk" these days. _Trust me,_ she chuckled quietly to herself. _You really don't want to have "the talk" right now._

 

"What was that, love?" a scratchy voice arose from the formerly inanimate lump on the other side of the bed, and a tousled head appeared to give it form. He gazed at her sleepily. “Going so soon?"

"I told you, Spike, I can't stay, I have to get back to Dawn."

"I thought that was last night?"

"No, last night I had to get back because Willow had class, tonight I have to get back because my shift ended at noon and they're both expecting me for dinner. I'm late, again." She glared pointedly.

"Well maybe if you stay long enough you'll have to go straight to patrol." His eyebrows lifted suggestively.

"What, you haven't had enough yet?"

His eyes locked on hers. "I never have enough."

She shivered again. She knew he didn't just mean what they'd been doing all afternoon, and last night, and the day before that... _Focus, Buffy._ She shook her head, attempting to clear it. He was starting again. She had to get out of there. "Have you seen my dress?"

It was Spike's turn to groan. "There she goes." He rolled back into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. "Don't forget to shut the door on the way out, pet. Sun's still a bit sunshiny for my taste."

"Right. We wouldn't want you to get sunburned, now would we, Spike?" _Though, it would solve a lot of her problems._ She clambered through the room, avoiding the sputtering candles and finally lighting on a small piece of cloth. She pulled away when she realized what it was. "Oh, gross, Spike, this is from like three weeks ago!"

"You're the one who left it here." Spike didn't even turn around, but she could hear the mockery in his voice, and the implication. She was an equal party here.

There was nothing she could really say to that. She stuffed it into her purse, which had thankfully ended up on top of the dresser. Her dress was draped across the lamp next to it. Thank goodness. She slipped it on over her head, hooked her purse on her shoulder, and headed upstairs.

"Don't you want today's?" He held up another scrap of clothing. "Or do you want to pick it up in another three weeks or so?"

There wouldn't be another three weeks. She stalked over and snatched it from him, stuffed it in her purse too, and stomped back towards the ladder, toward her real life.

She closed the door on her way out.


	4. Conversations

It seemed like mere seconds after Buffy had shut the door that Spike heard it swing open again, though gentler this time. Dainty steps pattered across the floor to his chair, around the tomb, and finally stopped right over the hole to the lower level. The ladder creaked from pressure as a slender figure carefully maneuvered along the rungs, reached the ground, and finally turned to face the room, long, glossy brown hair swinging.

"Hello Niblet,"

Dawn jumped nearly three feet. "Yeek! Spike!" She shook it off. "Don't scare me like that - I thought you were out."

"I might have been still, if you hadn't come barreling through here like a herd of buffalos."

"Out like _outside_ , I mean. Enjoying the vamp night life." She stepped forward, one hand on a hip. "Who are you calling a herd of buffalos?

Spike realized his predicament and tried to surreptitiously pull the sheet up past his waist. "Maybe just one buffalo," he amended.

She glared.

"A cow?"

Silence. He tried again. "A cute hoppy little forest animal?"

"I guess I can live with that." She tossed her hair over her shoulder haughtily and walked further into the room, stopping at the side of the bed. "So, what are you up to?"

Spike scooched back against the headboard, taking the covers with him. "Evil things of course, as usual."

"Of course." Dawn plopped on the bed, crossing her legs under her. "Working hard?"

"You could say that."

She grinned knowingly. "I bet." She surveyed the room as if she owned the place. "It's kind of a mess in here."

"You here to criticize my housekeeping too now?" Spike took offense.

"Why, has Buffy been complaining?" Dawn smirked. "I've seen her stake for less."

"Buffy?" He scrambled. "No! No, she never comes down here. Why would you think that?" He paused. "Xander, on the other hand..."

She raised an eyebrow. "Xander?"

"Well, y'know, boy's always criticizing something or other 'bout this place. Can't seem to please him."

"You're worried about pleasing Xander?" Dawn's eyebrows shot up.

"You're getting this all wrong!" Spike grew defensive.

"Why are you so twitchy all of a sudden?" She laughed.

 _Well, at least it's better if she thinks I'm dallying with Xander than her sister._ He grimaced. _I think._

"I'm not twitchy. I'm offended!" He rounded on her instead. "Anyway, what are you doing here, Bit? Aren't there all sorts of nasties out there waiting to pounce by now? You might get eaten." He leered meaningfully.

"It's not that dark." It was Dawn's turn to be defensive. "Besides, Buffy missed dinner. I doubt she'd notice if I was at a 'friends house' when she got back." She made air quotes. "It's not like she's around to ask me my schedule."

Spike's eyebrow rose at her bitter tone. "Maybe she's hard at work too, pet. You can't blame her for doing her job."

"Yeah, but her shift ends at noon. Why doesn't she come home 'til after ten?"

"I reckon she has her reasons." _And I'm number one._

"I wish she'd stop being so secretive," she pouted.

 _Sorry, love, but I'm not letting go of what I've got. Even if you do make those doe-eyes at me._

"Buffy is who she is, Dawn." His voice hardened. "If she wants to say where she's been passing the time, she will. If she wants to keep us in the dark, no demon in Hell's gonna make her talk."

 _Though I would if I bloody could._ His eyes glazed over. _What I'd give to hear her say..._ His thoughts took on a breathy, romance novel tone: _'Spike and I are together, and I don't care what anyone thinks!' Or even better: 'Spike, you gorgeous hunk of demon you, let's run away together. I don't care about the Scoobies or the Hellmouth. All I want is you, and damn the consequences!'_

He caught Dawn staring at him. _Oh, right. 'And Dawnie can come too.' Sap._

"Yeah, you're right. It's probably important Slayer business anyway. It's always about the Slaying," she harrumphed.

"Right!" Spike jumped on board, tossing the paddles. "Slayer business, that's what it is. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about." _There! Dodged that bullet nicely._ He patted her head condescendingly.

"If you say so." Dawn still looked skeptical. "Either way, it'll probably come out eventually. There are no secrets in this town."

 _Not for lack of trying._ For a moment he imagined declaring their relationship from the rooftops; kissing Buffy boldly in her living room, staying near when she gave him the brush-off; sleeping ‘til morning with his love by his side. Spike quickly pushed the idea away. _Nah, not in a million years._

"That's right, Bit," he said, smartly changing the subject. "And that's why we've got to get you back home and tucked safe in your little beddy-bye before Big Sis gets home and finds you've skipped." He started to get up, then realized what a bad idea that was at the moment. "You go on upstairs. I'll be up in a tic and we'll head out."

Dawn grumbled a bit but slid off the bed obediently, heading toward the ladder; a mirror image of her sister's exit just minutes before.

Spike immediately hopped out of bed and hiked on his jeans. As he moved to the hole in the ceiling one thought floated above the swarm in his head.

 _God, I'm whipped._

~

Buffy shut the door quietly behind her. She had just reached the third step without a single creak when she noticed the lone figure on the couch. Hoping she still hadn't been noticed, she lifted another foot, then jumped as the figure spoke.

"Buffy."

Dammit. "Oh, hey Willow. I was just heading to bed." She faked a yawn. "It's been a long night."

"Yeah. Must have been a lot of demons out there, huh?"

"Uh... yeah." Buffy let her think what she liked.

"We missed you at dinner. Dawn made ravioli with artichokes. And peanut butter."

Buffy turned to face her, abandoning thoughts of hot showers, warm, snuggly covers and another night spent successfully avoiding difficult conversations. "That sounds... yummy."

"It wasn't."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry I missed it." Buffy turned to go again.

"You're avoiding me, aren't you."

 _Well, that was a non-sequi-thingie._

"I don't think you've looked me in the eye since the night of the... the thing."

Buffy hurried to reassure her. "Oh, no, of course not, Will. I'm just tired."

"I can see that." Her face scrunched up in concern. "You haven't been sleeping enough, huh?"

"Not so much." The weariness seemed to seep out of her pores.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Buffy stiffened. "I don't think so." She hurried on, "But don't worry about me, I'll be back to bouncy-Buffy in no time! I just need a day off." She pasted on the brightest smile she could manage.

"Buffy, can I ask you something?" Willow's eyes seemed to bore into her.

"Sure, I guess."

"Tonight, when you didn't come home for dinner - was that ‘cause you were... with Spike?" Willow's tone was sad rather than accusing.

"What? No, of course not!" Buffy scrambled.

Willow gave her a look.

"Well, maybe?" Defeat.

"So, you're still seeing him?" Willow frowned as she tried to understand. "I thought you wanted to end it?"

"I'm not - I do! I just haven't exactly gotten the nerve to break up with him yet." Buffy finally moved to sit on the couch.

"But you're still… being 'with' him?" Willow danced around the words.

She tried not to look guilty. "I didn't plan to."

"Can't you just avoid him?"

"When he's everywhere I turn?" _Like in the graveyard on patrol, or the tree by my window, or the chair in his crypt..._ "He's kind of a stalker."

"Well that's true." Willow drew up her courage. "Do you want us to talk to him for you?"

Buffy's breath quickened. "No! Definitely not. I can handle it. I just need to find the right moment."

"I think you just need to tell him _something_."

"But it needs to be me. Please don't say anything to him - you or Xander. Promise me?"

"I don't know." Willow lowered her gaze.

"Please, Will. He might freak if he hears it from someone else." Buffy allowed herself to be honest for a moment. "Besides, he deserves to hear it from me."

Willow still looked unsure, but she gave in nonetheless. She just looked so... forlorn - helpless. "Okay, Buffy. I'll trust you." A pause. "Can I ask something else?"

"Do you have to?" She looked sheepish.

"Well..."

"It's okay. Ask away."

"What exactly is this thing you have with Spike?"

Buffy's mind balked at this question. _This thing with Spike._

 _That's all it is, isn't it? A thing. How in the world could she make her friends understand? How she needed him, how he was the only one she could stand to be near. How much she hated him, but it didn't seem to matter. How they'd become trapped in their own little world, sinking down and down until there was nothing left but him, her and despair. How could they get that?_

 _How could they understand that she wasn't ready to give him up, even if it was wrong?_

"Buffy?"

~

When she was sure Buffy wouldn't hear, Willow grabbed the phone and dialed. As it rang, she wondered if this was the right way to handle things.

Buffy was using Spike. For sex. And he was letting her. Willow didn't get it.

She paced back and forth between the counter and the sink.

Oh, she got the attraction thing, even if she wasn't the best judge anymore. Even Xander got it, apparently.

Sink.

And Spike was in love with Buffy, so of course he'd take whatever he could get. Her mind still boggled at the fact that Spike was actually getting anything.

Counter.

But the vampire thing kinda outweighed it. What if he started killing again, like Angel did? Would Buffy be able to kill him? She said it wasn't about love, so maybe that wouldn't be a problem this time.

The phone continued to ring.

But the sex! Willow's mind raced. How could she be doing that?

She twirled the phone cord around her finger, getting impatient.

Attraction was about more than just looks, it was about the person inside. Was Buffy attracted to his personality? He was kind of abrasive for her type, but who knew? He was still evil though, actively killing or not.

She'd always imagined Buffy with a hero. Spike might do good now, but he was no selfless hero. She could trust him with the things that go bump in the night, but there was no way she could trust him with her friend's heart.

"'Ello?" A sleepy voice interrupted her rambling thoughts.

"Xander?"

"No, it's his evil twin."

"Ha ha." She smiled despite herself. "Do you think the original Xander might be free for me to come over tonight? It's important."

He perked up immediately. "Are you okay?" He hurried on without waiting for an answer. "Is everyone okay? Should I get weapons?"

"There's no danger in the immediate vicinity," Willow assured him. "I'm just kinda worried about Buffy."

"Something wrong with the ‘ole Bufferoni? As in more than usual?"

"Can it wait until I get there?"

"Sure, sure, of course. It's about Spike though, isn't it?"

She could see his eyes darken with suspicion, but she ignored him. Better not to say with Buffy in the house. "I'll be right there."

Xander got serious for a moment. "It's alright, Will." He sighed deeply. "I'm worried too. We'll figure something out - we always do."

"I hope so." Willow let go of the breath she hadn't known she was holding, moving the phone towards the cradle. "See you in ten."

~

Buffy lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She'd finally managed to shake Willow off with halted explanations. She really didn't know how to talk to her anymore. She'd told her that she was attracted to Spike (really attracted), but that she didn't have any feelings beyond the physical. _If she couldn't admit that to herself, how could she admit it to Willow?_

She didn't know which was worse: Willow thinking she was using Spike like a selfish bitch, or thinking that she was letting herself fall for another vampire after everything that had happened in the past. She wasn't sure either was true, so she'd let her believe the first. It was safer that way.

The lights from the street made watery patterns above her head, entrancing her. Her musings moved with the waves.

Tara might have thought it was okay to love him, but she knew better.

She rolled over, clutching the blanket tightly to her breast.

Real love made you better, stronger. Love meant giving her life for Dawn and love meant saving the world. Being with Spike wasn't about love. She didn't know who she was with him, but she knew she didn’t want to be her. She neglected her duties, her sister, her friends. She hated herself with him.

The blanket stretched taut between her clenched hands.

She would never be with him if she hadn't come back wrong. Oh, Tara had said it was just a "deep, tropical cellular tan" and all, but she couldn't believe that. Spike could hurt her, in more ways than one. The old Buffy would never have let him come close enough to try. Tara had to be wrong.

So let Willow and Xander, and even Tara, think she was a terrible person. Let them think she was making bad decisions and destroying her life. Just as long as they didn't know she was a monster. Just as long as they didn't know how far she had already gone.

The blanket split in two. She gasped down at it, shocked for a moment at the force of her own emotion, then tossed it aside, unseeing, drowning once more in nightmarish thought.

~

Across town at Xander's apartment, Willow, Xander and Anya were gathered around the kitchen table. Willow held the floor.

"So that's it," Willow concluded. "She doesn't love him, but doesn't seem to want to break up with him either. I'm not sure what to do."

"She has been kind of fragile lately." Concern showed in Anya's voice.

Xander started to nod, but was cut off.

"I mean, just the other day, I handed her one of those slug-scented candles and she burst out crying right there!" She said this as if it were absolute proof of Buffy's inner turmoil.

Her seriousness was accidentally undercut by a voracious growling in her stomach.

"I think that may have been 'cause of the fumes, Ahn." Xander tried not to laugh as he got up from the table to scour the fridge.

Willow secretly agreed, but pressed on. "I keep thinking of… well, pushing her to do it? I'm just not sure it's the right way."

Xander walked back to table, carting, amongst other things, a box of expensive crackers, a few slices of old pizza, and a block of moldy cheese. He began laying the items out for consumption. "I don't know, Will. I don't think any of us feel comfortable knowing she's out there canoodling with the undead instead of flipping burgers or skewering slime demons." He lifted a slice of pizza to his mouth. "Not that either of those are desirable past-times, come to think of it." He seemed thoughtful. "But I do trust Buffy. She's made mistakes before and she's come through. Even if it takes her a while, I know she'll do the right thing."

"That's very mature of you, Xander." Willow's voice conveyed her surprise.

"Oh, you think that now. I'm the one who'll have to sit up half the night hearing all about Buffy's imaginary sex life and Spike's many inadequacies. But don't worry, he'll be okay by morning." Anya leaned in to whisper. “I've got a secret method." At that she grabbed the hunk of cheese and started enthusiastically breaking off chunks to go on the crackers, liberally spread with fig jam. She kindly offered one of her creations to Willow.

"Right." Willow cleared her throat and shook her head politely, trying not to think about what must have died on it to make the cheese that color. "Pretending I didn't hear that, the question now is what are we gonna do?"

"Do?" Xander was surprised. "I thought we were gonna trust Buffy and give her time and all that touchy-feely mush?"

"We are! But that doesn't mean we can't... nudge her along a little."

Xander's eyes grew big. "Ah, nudging. Far superior to the aforementioned pushing." He finished the last bites of his pizza, wiping his mouth. "I'm all about the nudging. Nudgy is my middle name."

He looked like he might be reconsidering his last comment.

Anya frowned. "I thought your middle name was…"

"Okay, Will," Xander interrupted. "What's the plan?"

Willow's voice took on a menacing tone. "We strike at midnight." She shook it off. "Nah. Actually, I was thinking her birthday party next week. We just need to get her to see what she's missing. She wants Spike for the physical stuff, maybe she just needs to see that she can get that elsewhere."

~

Later that night, when Spike crawled into her bed, Buffy didn't push him away. Instead, she pulled him close as he slipped between the covers, pressing her face to his bare chest and hiding the tears she couldn't quite restrain. He ignored the wetness as she moved up to kiss him, pretending not to notice. For her sake or his, she didn't know.

She kissed him hungrily, her weariness from Willow's well-intentioned interfering sliding away as her mouth fused with his. Just one more night of this. One more night of sweet oblivion.

She wasn't ready to let go yet.


	5. Letting Go

Morning came too quickly. Half-light dappled across the sheets through the closed blinds, gleaming on blond hair and skin, but only reaching the left side the bed. Buffy kept still as she returned to reality, hiding behind closed lids for as long as she could. She knew when she opened them that everything would still be there, everything she had run from the night before, so she clung to the moments she had left: the weight of the arm draped across her chest; the smell of his hair tickling her cheek. Spike had fallen asleep with his face buried in her neck. She'd let him stay there.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she felt him start to breathe. At first it was no more than a slight pressure against her back, but soon it deepened, evening out as his movements matched her own. His body was mimicking sleep, prolonging the morning and the moment of truth. It could only mean one thing – he was awake.

Her voice was scratchy and harsh in the darkness. Her words seemed to stick in her throat.

"They know."

She felt his arm slip away from her. Her chest expanded, free at last to breathe.

"What's that, love?" Spike lifted his head, peering at her through the dim light.

Buffy rolled over to face him, pulling the pillow close. Her eyes made her appear miles away, even while her breath drifted over his face. She steeled herself and tried again, stronger this time. "They know. The whole gang: Willow, Xander, Tara... They know about us." She grimaced. "What we've been doing."

Spike looked flabbergasted. "Well, can't say I expected that."

She went on. "I didn't tell them. They figured it out." The humiliation threatened to overwhelm her. "They shouldn't have figured it out."

Spike leered. "And here I thought we were being so discreet."

"Ha!" Buffy snorted without much feeling. Her lashes lifted momentarily. "Actually, they kinda saw us." She fought a twisted smile.

"Oh?" Spike looked smug. "Was it behind the Double Meat or in the cemetery?" He boldly trailed a finger down her shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Or maybe on your front lawn?"

"It was in the Bronze." She grew cold at the thought.

"Well that doesn't narrow it down much." Spike continued, completely unaware of her change in demeanor. "Which spot were we in?" He started ticking off his fingers. "Dark corner? Stairwell? They couldn't have seen us in the bathroom stall, that's what the privacy screen is for." He thought for an instant. "Though they probably could have heard us. You are a bit loud, love." His lips formed a self-satisfied smirk.

"Does it really matter _where_ they caught us?" She snapped, cutting him off. "What matters is, we've been caught, and now _I_ have to do something about it." Her disgust with herself mounted. "If I hadn't been so stupid! Letting you –" She broke off, realizing where they were. Her voice continued softly, but with no less venom. "I was supposed to be spending time with my friends."

Spike moved to speak, one finger in the air.

"Actually, I was supposed to be spending time with Dawn. But noo, Buffy's too self-absorbed to notice when she's wanted, and apparently we're working on a three-strikes-you're-out system of sistering now. Apparently, I'm out." Buffy was shaking in frustration with him, with herself, at the whole damn situation. Her next words cut like steel. "And it's your fault."

Spike angrily sucked in his breath. "My –"

"Yes. Your fault." Her voice was brittle enough to break.

He roughly shifted back toward his side of the bed, an invisible wall falling between them. "Well, that's just great, innit? Spike's always the one to blame these days." His voice rose in mockery. "He's bloody convenient."

She didn't bother to correct him.

A low growl rose from his chest. "Must be right nice to be able to pin everything on the love-sick vampire in your bed. I'm the reason you're so disgusted with yourself. Your job sucks, your friends hate you, the bill-collectors won't leave you alone, and now I'm destroying your relationship with your sister. I'm like the bleeding black plague, ain't I?"

"My friends don't hate me." She wasn't so sure of that.

"Right. They're just chuffed to bits that we've been screwing." He sniffed. "Tell me, did they run out and throw a party when they heard the news or did they have the guts to tell you straight out that you're insane? God knows, I know you are," he muttered.

"They didn't throw a party." She blinked up at him.

"Right then." Spike kept his guard up. "So what did the all-knowing Scoobie gang have to say about our little rendezvous?" His nose dipped to nudge her shoulder, but he changed his mind at the last moment.

She screwed up her courage, wrapping her pain around like a cloak. "They think I should end it." Her attention drifted to the patterned bedspread.

Spike nearly jumped out of bed. "Not bloody likely! They can't go sticking their noses in our business. 'S not like you and I go around telling them who not to date!" His eyes flashed. "They have no right."

Buffy reached forward and put a finger to his lips. "We're not dating." He nipped at it. She took that as a sign that he had calmed down a little.

He examined her features for a few seconds, a different kind of understanding beginning to dawn. "You agree with them." His words were laced with disbelief.

"Yes." She faltered. "I told them I would."

"You what?!" Spike seemed to swell with rage again, then crumpled into a ball. He started to inch off the edge. "Is this how you're telling me to shove off then?" His eyes raked over her. "At least you could have let me get my pants on first!" At that, he stood up in his full glory. "Or were you expecting a nice breakup shag to top it off?

Buffy felt steam coming out of her ears. She leapt across the mattress and up to face him, letting the sheet drop to the floor. "Did you hear me tell you to shove off, stupid? I've known for a week, but I haven't done it yet. I've had to deal with Willow's worrying and Xander's shifty-eyes. I've had to walk and talk and live with them _looking_ at me, knowing what I've done, and you're mad that I'm breaking up with you?!"

"Aren't you?!" He shouted back.

"No!" She rocked back, stunned by her own admission. Her hand covered her mouth. "That's not what I meant to say." She sat back down on the edge of the bed, fingering the cloth. "What am I supposed to do?"

Spike kneeled down next to her and cupped her chin. "They know now, right? Then we could be together, Buffy." His thumb brushed over her face, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. "Like a real couple. All the greatest obstacles are gone now." He leaned in until his forehead was touching hers.

She rested there for a moment, breathing him in before pushing away. "No."

"Why not?" He filled the space between them again, taking her hand in his. His tone was harsher this time, if a bit pleading. "You just need to let yourself be happy. God knows, things would be easier if you knew how to do that."

"It's that simple to you, isn't it?" She blew a piece of hair away from her forehead, ignoring his thumb rubbing gently along the bottom of her wrists. "You think that being out in the open will solve all our problems? Secrecy isn't our problem Spike. You are." She stood up, this time taking the sheet with her, and walked to the window.

His hands grasped at the air she'd abandoned. Containing himself for the moment, he soon followed, not bothering with the rest of the blankets, and met her by the curtained window-frame. His face twisted in rage, but before he could say something that would get him tossed out into the sunlight, bare-assed or not, she spoke again.

"I can never love you."

He deflated. The cruel words died in his mouth. He gasped like a fish seeking air, yearning to break through the barrier she had thrust between them. "That's a lie," he finally managed. "You love me."

"No." She spit it out like bile. "I don't."

His disbelief was clear. "You mean you won't."

"I can't." Her words were hollow. "You're a monster."

"And you love it." Sleazy Spike was back. His gaze left her eyes to travel down her body. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." The words hit like shards of glass.

His whole demeanor intensified. "But I can see it, every time you come to me- I can feel it." He shuddered. "You can't keep lying to me." He trailed one hand down his stomach suggestively. "You want me. I know you do."

Her voice was barely audible. "Maybe so."

His eyes brightened hopefully.

"But it doesn't matter."

The words crushed him like a blow. Spike collapsed into himself, sinking down and down until he finally reached that tiny point of light at the bottom of his psyche, the one that kept him going in the long nights when the world seemed to close in, as it had so many nights that past summer.

He gathered himself. "But I love you."

She stared back at him.

"Can't that be enough?"

His earnestness nearly broke her resolve. The ice driving her began to ebb, and she almost laughed.

"No, Spike, it really can't." She tried to turn her back, but his hand gripped the side of her arm tightly. "Love is about two people. You're barely even one."

He looked disgusted.

"You don't know what it means to love."

He was relentless. "What do you call what we've been doing all this time, love?" He stepped further into her personal bubble, making her feel the heat between them.

"Okay, I'll admit, you've got the fiery passion part down to a 't' ..." She trailed off, her expression hardening. "But it can't last. It'll keep burning until all that's left is a shell."

His brow furrowed. "How do you know –"

"Not you." She briefly touched his cheek. "Me."

Spike gaped a little.

"Being with you ..." She drew away, unable to give him more comfort. "It's killing me."

His voice caught in his throat, but the look in his eyes said it all.

"I can't do it anymore."

The space between them seemed to grow, further and further, until a canyon yawed between their heaving chests. If he tried to touch her, she thought she might break – fling her principles to the wind and throw herself back into their torrid, secret affair with full-force – but he didn't. Instead, Spike stumbled a few steps backwards until he hit the same bed he'd stretched on, perfectly content, just minutes before. The vampire froze there, leaning against the edge like he'd just escaped a hard battle. He had stopped breathing, but his eyes never left her face.

Buffy stared vacantly for a moment, then bent over to pluck a stray shirt and jeans lying rumpled on the floor. She hoisted up the window frame and drew one leg over the sill. She was wearing nothing but a sheet, but it didn't matter. She couldn't stay there a moment longer. Her resolve would only last so long.

Spike watched her climb out the window, safe in the shadow cast by the wall. She stepped lightly from branch to branch until she reached the ground. The moment her feet touched the earth she took off running, moving fast into the sunlight, where he couldn't follow. The tears he had been holding back since her first unbending declaration finally leaked out.

When she had gone, he slid down to the floor, unable to support his own weight. He didn't know how long he stayed there, lying against the bed like a puppet with it's strings cut, but morning had turned to night before he moved to leave.


	6. Holding On

Dawn wandered out of the bathroom on the second floor, brushing her teeth. "Hey Buff!" she called out, bursting through her sister's door. "Is it okay if I borrow your strappy black sandals? I'm going over to —" She stopped, eyes growing wide. Her mouth gaped as she struggled to comprehend why Spike was sitting, _naked_ on the carpet in her sister's room, flung against the bedside like he'd been hit by a monster truck (or maybe that ball-bearing contraption Xander hit Glory with last year). His feet were just inches from the light creeping in from outside and his eyes were shut. He was dead to the world — more than usual, at least. 

Her toothbrush fell to the floor, leaving a foamy stain on the crisp beige carpet. "Spike! What are you doing here... and like that?" She didn't even want to guess what he'd been up to. "If Buffy finds you..." 

"Oh, no worries there, Niblet," he rasped. "Big Sis knows I'm here." 

Dawn's mind whirled as she took in the situation. Spike. Buffy's room. Clothing optional. A flurry of bits and pieces swam around, slowly assembling into a somewhat coherent mass of faded candlelight and nervous defenses, Spike's crypt yesterday and its strangely disheveled furniture. And most importantly, sisters who never seemed to come home when expected, and obsessive vampires who didn't seem to care where they were.

"You." 

A single eyelid popped open. 

"A-and..."

The corresponding brow quirked. 

"Buffy." 

His eye shut once again. He clearly wished she'd give up and go away. "Yeah, so?"

"So? How can you just say 'yeah, so?' as if..."

"Not like it matters anymore." His head fell slowly to his chest, bitterness seeping through his words.

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" 

"It's over now, isn't it? Like it never sodding happened. Like I'm rot." 

"What are you talking about?" He was naked! In Buffy's room! Isn't this what he'd always wanted?

Her face twisted in distaste, eyes lighting on the tussled sheets. "Spike, are you _dating_ my sister?"

"Ha! Dating, right. That's a funny word. If dating means shagging me bloody, then running straight off, you could say we're dating, yeah."

"Ew! TMI, Spike." She glanced toward the bathroom, but she already knew it was empty. "Where is she?" 

"Gone. Always gone, of course. Never stays to say goodbye. Well, goodbye yes, this time at least, but never I lo–" He choked. "Please, just leave me alone."

Dawn started to circle around the bed.

He frantically reached behind him to the blanket, wrapping it around his middle before she could get too close. He struggled a little when it accidentally covered his head, making him look rather gypsyish for a second. 

Dawn almost giggled – almost. 

"No, Dawn. Pet. Please, you don't need to see this." He tried to bat her away.

"See what?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "A lovelorn vampire collapsed on the floor, pining for my sister? Grieving? Sorry, Spike, but I've seen it before."

"It's not the same."

"No. It's not, is it?"

Spike avoided her piercing gaze, watching her foot tapping stubbornly.

"You may have lost her in a different way this time, sure. Doesn't make you any less hurt." She laid a hand on his cool shoulder. "You're not the only one she can't stand to be around, you know." 

Spike turned his head toward her, his expression lost. She rubbed his arm a little, soothingly, then folded her legs beneath her, quietly joining his vigil. Her hand reached for his, squeezing gently. 

"I'm sorry, Spike." 

She rested her head on his shoulder. He breathed deeply against her warm scalp. It was several hours before she left for school, but being late wasn't exactly a new thing for her. She never did find those shoes. 

~

Wet leaves shone under the half-moon. They rustled as Buffy tramped through them, mind elsewhere. 

She had left Spike alone in her house, all day. She really shouldn't have. It was just — the look on his face. It was daylight, and the kicked puppy eyes he'd been giving her were nearly enough to melt her. She couldn't stand to be near him a moment longer. It was like she'd extracted a leech that had been draining her body and now it lay there, limp and bloated, refusing to disappear. It made her sick, to think that she'd been so attached to him; to know she was still. He knew how much she wanted him. How could she hide it? But he wanted so much more than she was willing to give. Leaving him there was the least dangerous alternative. So she'd cut and run. 

She hadn't returned to the house. Every crypt in Sunnydale that day suddenly warranted immediate inspection, and then the waitress at the Espresso pump had shown signs of being a Grishnak demon in disguise. Her only choice was to stake her out — complete with coffee. She only headed back when she left the Doublemeat at midnight. Another day ruined by the evil undead — only the sexy variety, this time.

But Spike wouldn't get to her. Not again. 

Her leg shot out mechanically, grazing the sallow green chin of a demon, accidentally popping a few hairy pustules and getting yellow puss all over her only clean uniform. _He would pay for that!_ She spun around to catch it full in the chest, but it staggered back towards her, undeterred. Her mind wandered off again.  

She knew she had done the right thing. Breaking things off might have taken a little longer than planned, but she'd always known they would end badly. How could they not? Spike wasn't exactly the king of healthy relationships, and her score-card consisted of a formerly-evil vampire with a _very_ loosely attached soul, and an Iowa farmboy-cum-soldier secretly addicted to blood-sucking whores.

Why couldn't the undead just stay out of her love-life?  Well, this was the end of it. Definitely. It didn't matter how much she wanted him. _Oh God,_ she groaned inwardly, _Why do I still want him?_ It wasn't just the sex. The crypt-shattering episodes that left her legs like taffy and her head spinning for hours. It was the warmth in his eyes, the strength in his arms when he held her. She could almost feel them surrounding her now ...

Except, ew, slimy.

Her elbows smashed outwards as she broke the demon's hold. The creature lunged at her, gnashing its teeth and clawing at her eyes, but she ducked in time and sent it sprawling into the trees behind her. She flipped over it and landed in the perfect position to smash the shiny, bald head into the nearest trunk, repeating vigorously until the body fell slack. 

Buffy dropped the dead monster to the ground with a thud. 

~

Spike was stalking Buffy. 

It was his usual evening's pastime, of course. He'd wander through the graveyards each night, picking off a demon or two until he caught sight of her, hair gleaming in the starlight – or with viscous fluid. Tonight wasn't any different. 

Except – tonight, he couldn't to walk right up to her, grab her by the hips and take what he wanted. Not that he'd ever been given permission... 

He watched as she dropped a battered, green demon to the ground, wiping her hands on her jeans – but not soon enough to keep from smearing yellow gunk in her hair as she pushed it out of her face. 

"You smell just delicious tonight, don't you?" he sneered, eyeing her matted hair as he slid out of the darkness, all black leather and slick white curls. He oozed with sex and confidence that he didn't feel. 

She faced him, guilt washing across her face before her trademark frigid bitch look replaced it. She should get a patent for that. 

"Spike, you shouldn't be here." 

"Oh? Where should I be then? Nice and warm in your little bed, like I was all day?  

"No." She resumed her homeward trajectory. "You're not welcome there anymore." 

"Oh-ho, so you're saying I was welcome? That's awfully kind of you, Slayer." He cocked his head. "Too bad it's after the fact." His words slid off her like oil on water. "By the way, you can chalk one more up on the list." 

Buffy halted her inexorable retreat, but she didn't turn around. "What are you talking about, Spike?"

"Afraid I wasn't too cautious lying around your flat this afternoon, pet. Little sis might have gotten herself a peep." 

"Seriously?" Facing him, Buffy stretched her shoulders, trying to shake the building tension. "Are you trying to ruin all the relationships in my life, now? Or is it just the ones I have some semblance of control over?" She gritted her teeth. "Maybe you should give Giles a call too, just to spread the joy."

"Sorry, Buffy. I didn't get up in time. Was a mite put out after you left." 

She sighed, clearly accepting inevitability of a serious Dawn-talk this evening. Mature content warning included. "It's okay, I guess. I mean, she had to find out sometime. Probably better to find out from you than from Xander or –" she shuddered, "– Anya." Her eyes narrowed. "You weren't the same way I left you, were you?" 

Spike ducked his head, almost sheepish. "So what if I was? Not my business to coddle the girl. I'm sure seeing a man's bits was right interesting for her." 

"Ugh, Spike. That's my sister you're talking about. My _baby_ sister." 

"Baby, right. She was surely the picture of innocence when we caught her snogging her undead honey on Halloween." 

"That's –!" Buffy quelled the impulse to smack him. "That's beside the point." 

"Oh, and what was the point then?" 

"The point is, I have to go home. And _you_ need to leave me alone. Permanently." 

Spike's face darkened. Of course, never could finish a conversation with the chit. It was always either shove off or shove to the floor, trousers optional. 

Buffy turned on her heel, seizing his momentary distraction for a quick getaway. By the time he realized she'd escaped, all he could do was kick the gooey, dead demon beside him and skulk back to his crypt for some more booze and sympathy. 

 _She'll come crawling back soon enough,_ he assured himself. _Like it or not, the girl can't stay away for long._

He was sure of it. 

~

The door slammed behind her as Buffy stormed into the house, still shaken from her altercation with Spike. Why did he always manage to get under her skin? She didn't care that she'd probably woken Willow and Dawn, or that her door had a few new cracks near the handle. She just wanted was to get upstairs and scrub herself clean from this whole horrible day. 

When she got out of the shower, toweling the last strands of hair and pulling on her soft cotton jammies, she realized that she wasn't alone. She felt like one of Goldilocks' bears, and not in a good way. Why was her bed always occupied by someone other than her? She stared down at the sleepy figure, long dark hair strewn over the pillow, clutching a tiny pink pig to her chest. Dawn stirred. She uncurled lazily and fixed Buffy with her patented 'busted' stare. 

 _Shoot._  

Buffy sat down and reached out to stroke her sister's always-perfect, shiny hair. Wasn't hair supposed to get messy during sleep? She tried to think of something to say, but her mind was full of fuzz. 

"I saw Spike this morning," 

"I know." Buffy felt subdued, calmed by the steam of the shower and the exhaustion rolling over her in waves. 

"Let me rephrase that. I saw Spike _naked_." 

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that."  _Really sorry._

"Sorry he was naked, or sorry I had to see it?" 

"Both, I think."  _Sorry I got myself into this mess._

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry you didn't tell me." 

Buffy felt her gut tighten. She realized that Dawn probably should have been the first to know, sister solidarity and all that, but she was so stunned when Willow and Xander found out that she'd forgotten. Later, though, she hadn't spoken up because the thought that someone – anyone – still thought of her as the selfless hero – was all she had left. If Dawn still needed her, things couldn't be all bad. She'd kind of hoped she would never have to tell. 

"It's not such a big deal, you know. You and Spike." 

Buffy scoffed. _Not a big deal, right. Tell me another one._ p

"Seriously. I know he's all evil and stuff, but he's not evil to us. He hasn't been for a long time." 

 _'I-It's okay if you do. He's done a lot of good, and, and he does love you.'_ Tara's words echoed in Buffy's ears. It didn't matter though, honestly. Buffy needed to protect her sister. Dawn had already seen enough with Mom and Glory and every big bad since. She knew too much about the bills and Buffy's job and the threats from social services. She didn't need the moral ambiguities and severe self-loathing that made up her and Spike. She didn't need to know that people could sometimes be together because they wanted to hurt themselves. She wanted to preserve Dawn's ideas about love, to let her hold on to the innocence Buffy'd lost with Angel. She didn't want her to know what kind of monsters there were— especially the ones that weren't supernatural.

Besides, the more people who knew, the more impossible being with Spike – in any form – became. She couldn't keep justifying it, not even to herself. 

"That's not the point, Dawnie." Buffy ruffled her hair. "I'm supposed to be slaying evil creatures. Spike's just on hold. If he ever –" She cut herself off, refusing to go there. "He's killed thousands. I can't just look past that." 

Dawn's looked at her sharply. "Do you love him?" 

"No."  _Never._

"Then you shouldn't be with him." 

"Yes. Exactly." Buffy sighed with relief. She should have known it wouldn't be that easy. 

"But he does love you." 

She hesitated. "In his own way." _But it's not enough._

"It's not very fair, is it? Shouldn't two people be able to love each other, equally? Shouldn't you be able to love him?" 

"Oh, they should, and they can." Buffy hurried to reassure her. "Just not here, and not now. I don't love him, and I don't want to. I shouldn't have let him think I might. It's all so complicated now."

Dawn leaned over and rested her head on her shoulder, fingers gently traipsing over her sister's arm. 

"Complicated. I'm sure it is. That's what everyone always says." 

"Everyone?" 

"Oh, you know, grownups. Whenever they talk about the sex." 

"The whuh?"  _Oh no. It wasn't time for that talk already, was it?_

"Don't worry, I won't make you go into it. But he _was_ naked when I found him. I told you that, right?" 

"Yeah, you did." Buffy felt the tension dissipate a little. 

"We can talk about it in the morning." Buffy could've sworn she saw Dawn grin, even in the pitch-black room. 

"Right, in the morning." Buffy closed her eyes, too close to sleep to argue, and wrapped her arms more tightly around Dawn. She'd avoided connecting for this long, but maybe it was okay to take comfort in the people she actually had, rather than the vampire she so desperately wanted. She'd thought Dawn was too young to be exposed to all this sex and death and misery, and yeah, she probably was, but Buffy was all she had. Didn't matter that she came complete with a dead mom, too-chipper Scoobies, and sex-starved vampires calling nightly. This was her life, even if wasn't supposed to be this way. But maybe the supposed-to-be's weren't what mattered, in the end. Maybe what mattered were the people she loved and had around her. Right now, she had her sister, and her friends, and she wasn't letting go so easily this time. Even if holding on hurt like hell. 


	7. Older and Far Wiser

Dawn's heels clacked on the linoleum as she hurried down the empty hallway. She didn't want to think about what happened the last time she was pulled out of class with no warning. Her mind filled with dim memories of herself falling to the floor, not willing to believe her sister's words. She could still see her peers gawking at her through the glass of the art room walls. Buffy had already died twice, she wouldn't do it again so soon, would she? And they surely hadn't seen Tricia's necklace in her locker – what could this be about?   
   
She shuffled in her seat in the new counselor's office, pulling her tight gray skirt down to cover her knees, then focusing her attention on the plain wooden desk and its array of pencils– anything but the woman in front of her.  
   
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." The counselor broke the silence.   
   
Dawn finally looked up, taking in glossy brown curls and a saccharine smile. A smile was probably a good sign, even a fake one. 

"Just a follow-up after your... loss. And since I'm new here, I thought it would give us a chance to know each other." The smile stayed pasted on as she spoke.   
   
"Great." Dawn's shoulders sagged with relief.  
   
The counselor shuffled through a stack of papers in front of her. "So, I've been looking through your file, and your grades have slipped a little."  
   
"I have really hard classes this quarter." Dawn pressed her hands to her knees to stop them bouncing.   
   
"Yeah, still. Teachers say that you seem a little distracted lately."  
   
"I'm not. I – I'm fine."  
   
"Okay. It's just, you know, I know it must seem weird," she laughed. "Talking to a stranger about stuff, but, I want you to know that if something's going on, if something's up, my job – the most important part of my job – is looking out for you." Her whole body spelled out her earnestness.   
   
Dawn looked up, a little more hopeful. "I'm really okay."  
   
The counselor nodded, then leaned in closer. "I know there's been..." She paused. "A lot of loss."  
   
Dawn looked down. Her words were quiet. "Yeah. Kinda."

The older woman waited.  
   
"I'm not alone, though. People are around. Plenty of people." She laughed bitterly. "But they're not really around." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, Buffy has all these friends, and they're great, really! But everyone's always distracted. Sometimes I think they're avoiding me – like I'm just this big burden everyone's trying to pass off to the next guy."

"Even your sister doesn't have time for you?" 

"No." She thought about that for a second. "Well, yes. But she doesn't mean to! She's got a job –" _Really, a job and a calling._ "And bills and she's trying to go back to school and –" 

"And?" 

Dawn hesitated. "And she never really wanted me in the first place."

"Oh, Dawn, I'm sure that's not true." The woman leaned forward to pat her arm gently. "I'm sure she loves you very much." 

"Oh, she does! Way much." _Die to save the world much._ "But I'm still a burden. I'm still messing up her life. I'm just another responsibility for her to deal with." _But it doesn't have to be that way._ Her brow furrowed. _I'm more grown up than she thinks. She doesn't have to keep hiding all the bad things from me! If she would only talk to me. She'd realize that she's not alone. But all she does is keep secrets, and I get left in the cold. Like with Spike._

The counselor attempted to respond, but Dawn cut her off. "Everything's so hard right now, and she's dealing the best she can, but if she'd only talk to me –" _If only any of them would talk to me like a freaking adult. Maybe I could show them that I'm not such a pain after all._ "Maybe I could help, y'know?" 

"What if she's only trying to protect you?" 

"She is, they all are. But it's not enough. I still see what's going on. They can't protect me from everything."

"But you wish they'd tell you about things?" 

"Yeah. You know?" Dawn sat up eagerly. "Sometimes I wish they'd all just stick around long enough to say what they're really thinking. Then, at least, we could deal with what's going on together." 

~

Buffy stood in the living room, surrounded by Willow, Xander and Anya. Red and gold streamers adorned the room, and several plated of chips, dip and assorted dippable vegetables lines the tables. 

Buffy's face was stern. "Guys, remember what I asked, if you see Spike, please don't say anything to him about – you know. He's not coming tonight or anything, but just in case." 

"You did break up with him, though, right? Finally?" Xander asked. 

"Yeah. I did." Buffy had given up on explaining that you couldn't break up with someone you'd never been with in the first place. 

Xander let out a breath. "Well, thank God it's over with." 

Buffy fixed her eyes on the floor. "Yeah, thank God." 

Willow squirmed uncomfortably. "Isn't it about time to get this party started? All with the cake-eating and the present-having?"

"Oh yes, I think you'll like our present very much!" Anya grinned. She whispered secretively. "It's one of a kind." 

Buffy wondered what kind of gift Anya thought would fit that very special category of 'one of a kind.' She hoped it wasn't a sex toy. "Maybe, just this once, tonight can be something I don't add to the list of 'Buffy's best birthday memories.'"

"There's always a chance," Willow agreed. 

"Hopefully it'll be more fun than usual, at least," Anya piped up. "What with the friend from work we've brought for you." She leaned forward. "Don't worry, that's only part of the gift." 

Now Buffy really hoped it wasn't a sex toy. "Wait a minute. You invited a friend? For me? Like a snuggle-bunny friend?" 

"No!" Anya shuddered. "God, like we'd want you near any kind of bunny! No, we just hope you want to have sex with him. Then maybe you won't want to have sex with Spike anymore." 

Buffy was flabbergasted. She turned to Xander. "You knew about this?"

Xander shifted uncomfortably. "We thought you might want to have some fun, that's all. Maybe try out a more long-term possibility. Someone of the not undead variety." 

Buffy shifted to Willow. "And you?"

"It might have kinda sorta been my idea." Willow let out. "Can't you just give it a try? It might be good for you." 

"His name is Richard. He's very nice. His arms are quite muscular from all that construction work." 

"Oh goody." Buffy sighed. "Look, guys, I appreciate the effort, but –" 

Just then, the doorbell rang. Buffy froze. Thankfully, though, the door swung wide to reveal Tara, wearing a nervous smile and a pretty green corset.

Willow gulped. "Tara! Uh, hi." 

"Hi." 

Both girls stood frozen in the door for a long minute. Willow gathered herself first and stepped back into the foyer. "Come in." 

The small room was suddenly empty except for the two of them. 

"You look –" 

"Thank you." 

"Nice." 

"Thank you." 

They laughed. 

~

Tara followed Buffy into the kitchen just as she ran smack into Spike closing the back door behind a floppy-eared monster. Spike held a case of beer in one hand. The demon gripped a small badminton set. 

"W — what are you doing here?" Buffy asked, jumping back to get away from him. 

"Heard about the party, love." Spike raised an eyebrow at her flustered response. "Thought the whole gang was invited." 

"Wait, what kind of gang is this?" Buffy eyed Clem and his sports gear. 

Clem waved from behind his friend. "Hi there! We met once before."

Buffy half-smiled back. "Yes, we have." She glared at Spike, mentally communicating all the ways he would die horribly if he and his demon friend didn't behave. She stepped back and waved vaguely behind her. "Come on in, the party's just getting started." 

The wrinkly demon turned to Tara. "I'm Clement, but you can call me Clem." 

"Nice to meet you." 

Spike strode boldly over to the fridge and popped the case in. He grabbed one of the beers for himself and took a swig, leaning his hip against the counter. "So, how are you two lovely ladies this evening?" 

"We're fine, Spike," Buffy said hurriedly. She smiled falsely. "And you?" 

Tara looked embarrassed. 

"Oh just dandy." Spike shrugged. "Been keeping busy, what with all the women and the heroic demon-killing." 

Clem looked at Spike funny. "Women? You've been holed up in your crypt drinking your brains out and weeping for a week now. I should know, you're the only one with premium channels. I've missed all of Top Chef!" 

Spike tried to subtly stamp on the demon's foot. He laughed loudly. "Oh Clem, he's such a kidder." 

Buffy folded her arms skeptically. "Women or weeping? I wonder which story sounds more like my Spike?" 

Spike's eyes widened. "My –" 

Buffy coughed. "I mean high Spike. High. What with all the drinking and all." 

"Drinking doesn't get you –" 

"Anyway! "Gifts go on the living room table. That is, if you brought them." She eyed them suspiciously. "I need to go now. Gotta use the bathroom." She hurried out of there as fast as her Slayer-legs could take her. Spike followed her out. 

Tara smiled awkwardly at Clem. "So, see any good movies lately?"

~

Spike cornered her under the stairs. Buffy rolled her eyes as she stood there, waiting for his next move. 

"So, lots of women, huh?" 

"Uh, yeah." Spike preened, getting into the act. "Got the bad boy look. Does it for some of them." 

"I'm sure it does." 

"Did it for you, once." 

"Don't start." 

"I'm not starting anything. I'm just here to have a good time, slay a few beers, and enjoy whatever hell freezes over on your birthday this year." He pouted. "I thought we could be friends." 

"We were never friends, Spike." 

"Oh yeah, what do you call that drinking binge we had after the evil mummy hand incident?" He clawed the air in demonstration. 

"We weren't friends then, not really. You were in love with me, and I –" 

"What?" 

"It wasn't about friendship for me either, okay? It's just... you were the only one I could talk to." She grew wistful, and then her expression hardened. "But then things changed." 

"You mean we started shagging."  

"I mean you turned back into a pig. It's over. Get over it. You know how I felt." She moved to walk away, but he slipped in front of her. 

"Maybe we can try something new, then." 

"Like what?" Her hands crossed over her chest.

"Let me be part of the gang. Just for one night. I'll be just another one of your friends." 

"You don't know how. And you hate my friends." 

"They're not my favorite people, true, but I can put up with them. For you." 

"Sounds like only friendship to me." Sarcasm dripped from her voice. "Don't waste my time, Spike." 

"An hour, give me an hour." He stepped back to show how good he was at giving her space.

"Ugh, fine. But you come near me –"

"And you'll stake me good and proper. I know the drill, Slayer." 

She grinned snidely. "Actually, I was going to say and I'll throw you out on your ass, but that works too. And not a word to my friends. They already know enough." 

Spike gave her one last sexy leer. "You don't think they're curious? Need some advice on technique?" 

"No. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." 

"Need some help in there, pet?" 

"Spike –" 

"I know, I know." He smirked and headed for the living room.   

~

The party was bumping. Xander and Anya were swing dancing by the radio, two-stepping around each other like pros while Dawn watched, moving her head to the music and grinning like a fool. Buffy tap-tapped her feet on the floor in her spot next to her sister on the couch, and Tara, Clem, Sophie and Spike sat around the card table, three of them hemorrhaging their hard-won cheesy goldfish to a growing stack in front of Clem. Everything seemed perfect, and everyone was having a great time — even though it was already two in the morning.  
   
Willow came in from the kitchen, bearing a fresh bowl of dip. "So, who's up for a beer run?"  
   
"It is the Buff's twenty-first, after all. Beer is a necessity," Xander piped up.  
   
"Maybe she should go for it," Anya chirped pleasantly.  
   
Buffy glared.  
   
"Or, maybe we should wait on her hand and foot, seeing as she's the birthday gal." Willow hurried to quash that argument-waiting-to-happen.  
   
Buffy's glare transformed into a beatific smile as she lay back further on the couch, stretched her legs and held out her hands. "Yes, tonight I'm Princess Buffy. You can all be my willing slaves." Spike caught her eye and she blushed. She quickly sat up and folded her hands. "Or not."  
   
"One slave-worthy harem, check," Xander agreed. "So, Ahn, want to make with the beer-getting?"  
   
"Oh, all right," she grumbled. "But everyone chips in! No way we're paying for gas _and_ amenities."  
   
"Okay, sure." Willow pulled a five out of her back pocket and handed it to her. "Don't spend it all in one place!"  
   
Anya looked at her quizzically.  
   
"Or, well, do spend it all. It's fine."  
   
"It better be." Anya pocketed the bill.  
   
"Hey!" Buffy clapped her hands. "Anyone thirsty for something of the non-alcoholic variety? I'm buying! And by that I mean I'm going to the kitchen. Anyone want a soda?" She scurried off before anyone could answer, leaving Sophie and Clem with their mouths hanging open.  
   
Xander grabbed his coat from the chair and fished his keys from the pocket. He walked towards the door and then stopped, turned, and headed up the stairs instead. "I just have to go to the bathroom first."  
   
"Fine. I'll be waiting in the car." Anya caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror by the front door. "Yikes! As soon as I fix my makeup." She called up the stairs. "Don't lock the door, Sweetie!"  
   
"Well, they'll probably be in there a while." Willow shook her head ruefully. "I'll just go. Anyone want to come with?"  
   
"Sure!" Sophie smiled brightly.  
   
"Uh huh. Let me just grab my keys." Willow turned and headed off up the stairs where Xander and Anya had just disappeared.  
   
"Okay, I'll just wait here."  
   
Spike threw down his cards. "You know what? I'll just pop — oh, whatever." He stomped off into the kitchen.  
   
"Huh. Hey, Dawnie, want to play a game of monopoly?" Tara vacated her seat at the card table.  
   
"Ooh, definitely!"  
   
~

Buffy found her blind date standing at the kitchen counter, pouring orange juice into a red plastic cup. She grabbed another cup from the stack next to him and went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of Tab. 

Richard looked up and grinned. "Hi! Thirsty too, huh?" 

"Looks like." Buffy offered a tentative smile. 

Richard finished pouring the juice and came to join her by the fridge. "Great party, by the way. Look at the time! No one is even thinking of leaving." He caught her eye. "I know I can't tear myself away." 

"Right! Great party." Buffy yelped and slipped out from under the arm that had reached around her to reopen the fridge door. "Glad you're enjoying it." She quickly filled her glass, not risking a return to the appliance for ice. "Well, I need to, uh, go now. Back to the room. To be part of the party." 

Before Richard could respond, Buffy grabbed her cup and turned on her heel, hurrying back to the living room. 

"Uh, okay then. I'll just be here... I guess." 

~    
   
Spike bumped into Buffy just as she was leaving the kitchen. They both reeled back momentarily, but Buffy's eyes narrowed as she recognized her assailant. Slayer reflexes saved the carpet from her soda. Shame the same couldn't be said about her top, though.

Spike made no move to pull away. Instead, he pushed her forward into the wall behind her, trapping her with his body. "Want to step away for a minute, love?" His eyes roamed over her. "It's been more than an hour." 

"What? No!" Buffy pushed him back. 

Spike pouted. "Why not?"

"You know why not. We don't do _that_ anymore. I thought I was clear." 

"Clear as crystal." His nose nearly touched hers. "Doesn't change what you want." 

"Yes. It does. I thought you were going to leave me alone." 

"You gave me an hour. It's been more than five and no sign of a stake. Think I've earned a little reward for my enormous —" He slid his hand down between them. "Self-control." 

She slapped at his hand. "What, so this was all some trick to get me in bed with you again?" 

"Never was much for the bed. Besides, I tried the friends thing, but you haven't said a word to me all night. You've been too focused on your new friend." 

"What, Richard? I've barely said two words to him." 

"You helped him park his car." 

"Xander pushed me. And besides, I'm the hostess, I'm supposed to be all hostessy." 

"I see the way he looks at you. Why don't you just let him off easy?" 

"What? Before he starts following me around like a lovesick puppy? Cause I could really use another one of those." She paused. "Besides, maybe I am interested." 

Spike scowled. "Interested my ass. You get off on the power." 

"I do not." 

"Yeah, you do. But what happens when you finally let him in? Do you think he can satisfy you like I can? Think he can make you scream?" 

"Spike –" 

"Right. If you don't want him, why are you avoiding me?" 

"Cause I knew you'd do _this_ if I gave you an inch. I can't let you get away with that, not in front of my friends." She sighed. "This isn't working. I think you should go." 

"Fine, then!" Spike kept his face inches away. "If you want to keep lying to yourself to make those little friends of yours happy; if you want to pretend like there's nothing between us in the hopes that they'll forget all about your little indiscretions, then don't come running to me next time you need some satisfaction in your life. And sure as hell don't invite me to anymore of your stupid tea-parties!" 

"I didn't invite you! You overheard. Stupid me for thinking that you might actually want to be part of the gang for a night."

"The only thing I want to be part of is you, sweetheart." He leered. 

"Ugh. Gross, Spike. And no."

"Well, then, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll just grab myself a drink before I head out. Don't worry, I'll get one from the fridge – not poor Richard." He brushed past her. 

"You broke the deal, you stupid vampire! You did this to yourself!" she shouted after him. "And he wonders why we'll never be friends," she muttered. 

~

Xander rushed down the stairs with Anya right behind, both looking more disheveled than before Anya went to 'freshen up.' He stopped just in time to avoid crashing into Tara. "Okay. Beer run. Now."

"Sorry, we got a little distracted." Anya tugged her skirt down further. 

"It's no problem." Tara looked down at the sleeping figure of Willow on the dining room table. "Willow was going to go, but I guess the night got to be too much for her." 

"We'll take care of it." 

"Yeah, let her get her beauty sleep." Xander reached out towards the doorknob. "Did I forget my keys?" 

"They're in your pocket. Come on." Anya grabbed the handle and pulled, but it didn't budge. 

"Is it locked?" Tara seemed concerned. 

Anya examined the door frame. "I don't see how." 

Buffy suddenly emerged from the kitchen. "Party in the foyer, eh?"

"Nah, Buff. The door's just kinda sticky."

Tara nodded. "It's being grumpy."

"Well, that's no problem. What is slayer strength for? Other than the stabbing and the poking..."

"And don't forget the nifty Karate moves," Xander added. 

The Slayer reached out with two hands and gave the handle a good, sharp twist. It neatly popped off in her hands. "Oops." 

The others gaped. 

"Hey, now I just have to pry it off its hinges. Who cares if it comes out of my paltry paycheck?" Buffy reached out and pulled, but nothing happened. She groaned. "Do I have to tear it to splinters?" 

"Whoa, hold your horses. If it's not responding to Slayer strength, there might be something more going on here."

"What are you saying, Xander?"

"I think we may be stuck."


	8. Truth be Told

Three busy signals, two stuck doors and one failed window escape later, the Scoobies were gathered in the living room. 

"I guess we're stuck." Willow sighed.

"Way to state the obvious, Will," Xander called from his perch on the arm of the comfy chair he shared with Anya. "Next you'll be telling us it's a spell." 

Willow shrugged. "It's probably a spell." 

Spike leaned against the door frame at the entrance to the room, thumbs tucked in his pockets. "Well, now that we know that enticing tidbit of information, what the hell are we going to do about it?"  

Xander's head dipped in Spike's direction. "Much as I hate to side with chiphead over there, he's not wrong. We need to do something."   

"You're right, Xander," said Buffy.     

Spike raised an eyebrow at Buffy's words. 

"You're both right," she corrected. "Will, are there any counter spells you can think of that might help?"

"Even if I could, I'm not really much with the spell-doing right now, Buffy." 

"I can do it." Tara's soft voice filled the room.  

Willow looked gratefully at Tara. 

Tara smiled back. "But I don't have any ingredients." 

"Uh. Um, I kinda ... I kinda do." 

Tara's face crumpled. "Oh." 

"Just in case," Willow explained weakly. 

"Right. Just get them for me, Willow. I'll handle it alone." 

Buffy and Xander fidgeted. Clem whistled a little tune, and Sophie stacked the little Monopoly hotels in the game box. 

Buffy pressed on. "So, a spell. What can we do?" 

"We should probably try to figure out what kind of spell we're fighting," Willow said. "General spells aren't, you know, that effective. In general."  

"Well, that's easy then. Let's just figure out who hates the Slayer enough to want to keep her nice and cozy indoors for an indefinite period of time." Spike schooled his features into an expression of perfect innocence. 

Xander narrowed his gaze. "You'd be first on the list, blood-breath."  

"True." Spike shrugged.  

"But this was probably done by someone with evil intentions." Buffy attempted to change that train of thought before it became a train wreck.  

"Hey! Still evil here." Spike stood up straighter.  

Spike might choose to be stuck in a house with her, but Buffy didn't think he'd invite her friends along for the ride. "But we're looking for someone who might want to hurt the good people of Sunnydale while we're stuck. You're in here with us, ergo, if it is you, it's a pretty stupid plan. Then again..."  

Spike crossed his arms. "I never said it was me, darling. Just defending the fanged segment of the population."   

"Great. Whatever. Anyone else have an idea?" 

"Maybe it's the cookie monster? There are a lot of cookies at this party." Xander eyed the table in front of him. "Maybe, if we eat them all, it'll leave us alone." His hand stretched towards the nearest stack of chocolatey chip goodness. 

Anya slapped his hand. "Don't be ridiculous! Stay away from those cookies, or you'll pop out of your cummerbund." 

Xander backed off the cookies, but, as soon as his bride-to-be looked away, he snagged his prize on the sly. 

"Okay. Not the cookie monster." Buffy took back the reins. "Anything else?"

Willow's brow pinched. "It could be someone who's angry at us. Maybe Amy? She didn't exactly have my best interests in mind the last time we ran across her. And she's a very powerful witch. Now that she's not, you know, living the life of the free and cheesy." 

"What could we do about her?" Xander asked through a mouthful of cookie. 

Anya scowled and scooted the platter of cookies to the far side of the table. 

"Depends on the spell. We could do a reveal spell to look for any magic in the room, like Buffy did with Dawnie." Willow offered. 

"She did what?" Dawn froze mid-chip.  

"It's not important right now." Buffy waved her off.   

"Right," Dawn grumped, and sank deeper into the cushions.

Anya perked up her head. "Well, it could be the work of a vengeance demon. But if it is, a reveal spell wouldn't show anything."  

"I still think it could be Spike," Xander muttered. 

"Oh really?" Spike stalked toward Xander. He leaned over him, arms on either side of the chair. "And what reason on God's green earth would I have to want to spend eternity with a pompous, overweight, half wit, washed-up berk like you?" 

"Got enough insults in there or you wanna try and pack in a few more adjectives?" Xander raised an eyebrow. 

"Spike..." Buffy's tone was laced with warning. _So much for hanging peaceably with my friends._

Spike turned to her. "What?" 

"Play nice."  

"Since when are you the boss of me?" 

Buffy's knuckles whitened.  

"Oh, I see how it is," Spike said. "Too good for the likes of Spike, now that we don't play tonsil hockey under the stairs. Maybe you'd like to get in a good swing. I know how you love to tenderize the meat first."

Dawn's eyes went wide. The heretofore forgotten Clem noisily stuffed some Bugles in his mouth with one floppy hand. Xander turned green. 

Buffy's face paled. It was one thing for her friends to know about Spike in theory, but sharing the dirty details with the entire class was just too much. 

"Ah, that's a familiar look, love." Spike grinned. "Want to slip off to a corner and work off some of these 'issues,' do you? I'm sure the rest of these kind folks will pretend not to hear your girly shrieks."  

"Get out." Her words were acid. 

"Not really a possibility."  

"Fine, then get up." 

Spike's smile turned salacious, but he didn't budge from the wall.  

Buffy prayed for patience. "Upstairs. I'll deal with you later." 

"Make me." 

Buffy crossed the few feet between her and Spike and grabbed his collar. "You know, I'm beginning to think we'd be better off without our resident mood-killer for a while. Let's get you upstairs." She started to pull him from the room. "Xander? Do you have any rope? I'm thinking the old bind-and-gag routine."

"Ooh, my favorite, love." 

Willow looked aghast.

Dawn jumped to her feet. "Stop!" 

Every eye turned to Dawn, who was pacing back and forth along the coffee table and the easy chair. She turned to Anya. "You said this could be a vengeance wish?" 

Anya nodded. 

"And a vengeance demon can look like anyone?" 

Anya nodded again, looking more concerned. 

"Like, say, a guidance counselor that you've never seen before in your life who pulls you out of class to ask you lots of personal questions about your family? Questions that may kinda sorta result in you expressing a desire of some kind to said stranger?" Dawn twirled a strand of hair.   

"Uh oh." Xander gulped. 

Buffy let go of Spike's collar. "Dawn, what did you do?" 

"I didn't do anything! She looked totally normal!" 

"Was she wearing a dark blue pendant?" Anya grabbed her arm, halting her progress and she passed the chair again.  

Dawn's shoulders sagged. "With little red flecks." 

"Oh for God's sake! It was Halfrek. Hallie!" Anya shouted. "Get your ass down here!"  

Nothing happened. 

"Um, don't you need a spell to summon a vengeance demon?" Willow asked. 

"Oh, that's just for mortals. I know she can hear me. Hallie!" 

"Hon, I don't think she's coming." Xander patted Anya's shoulder.

They waited a few more seconds.

"Maybe if we can figure out what Dawn wished, we can break the spell," Tara said. 

"It's worth a shot." Buffy put her hand on her hip. "Dawn, what _exactly_ did you say to this woman?"

Dawn chewed her lip for a moment. "I think I was, uh, complaining about how you guys keep secrets from each other." 

Buffy looked chagrined. 

"And I may have wished that you all would just stick around long enough to say what you're really thinking." The words tumbled out of Dawn's mouth. 

"Great. So we're stuck here until we go all teen hotline on each other? That sounds like loads of fun." Buffy shuddered. _And kind of dangerous. At least they already know about Spike. What more could go wrong?_  

"It's not a truth spell, though, right?" Xander asked.  

"No, just a 'share all your deepest secrets semi-voluntarily' spell." Willow bobbed her head. Not that that was much better. 

"Lovely." Spike didn't like the thought of that either, apparently. 

No one was exactly thrilled. 

~

Five minutes later, the entire Scooby gang (plus three – four if you counted Spike) sat in a circle around the Summers' living room. Eyes met and dropped. Mouths opened, but no voices emerged. 

Finally, Buffy broke the silence. "So, the plan is to go around in a circle, telling everyone our deepest darkest secrets, and the winner gets to open the door and leave." She looked down at her cup. "This feels strangely like high school again, only with more alcohol. Who wants to go first?" 

Sophie raised her hand. She looked shy but determined. "I will." 

Buffy smiled. "Great." 

Clem patted Sophie on the back. 

Sophie cleared her throat and steeled herself. "I'm not really allergic to barley." She looked out into a sea of blank faces. "Barley? The beer thing?" 

Comprehension slowly dawned. 

"I just don't like getting drunk. I'm kind of underage anyway." 

Clem looked shocked. "But you're so mature!"  

Sophie blushed. "Thanks, but I'm only eighteen. Still in my first year of college." 

One by one everyone stood up and patted Sophie on the back.

"Thanks for sharing with us, Sophie." Buffy said in her best 'school counselor' voice.

Clem nodded. "That was very brave."

"I'll go next." Richard finally decided to pop out of the woodwork. "I gotta be honest here, I think you guys are a bunch of freaks."

A few jaws dropped. Spike's held firm, his lips twisting into a smirk.

"I mean, it's almost five in the morning, and I have work tomorrow, but the door doesn't work. And I don't really want to leave. Something weird is going on here. And your solution is to camp out in the living room playing truth or dare? Besides – I think I was invited under false pretenses." He motioned towards Spike. "I don't think it's real cool to bring an ex along on a blind date." 

Buffy opened her mouth. "He's not –"

Xander raised his eyebrows. Spike looked livid.  

"Never mind." Buffy shut her mouth.

Also." Richard pointed at Clem. "I don't think _that's_ a skin condition."

"Those are your darkest secrets?" Xander was incredulous. 

"The darkest you'll hear." Richard stepped away from the circle. "I'm going into the dining room to wait this out. If anyone suddenly decides to become sane, call. I'll come running. Thanks for the great party." 

Buffy lips formed a thin line. 

The room sat in silence for a few moments, broken only by the sound of Clem scratching his arm wrinkles. He cleared his throat loudly, shifting his eyes. "I'll go next." He smiled at Sophie. "She was so brave, I know I can be honest too." 

Eight pairs of eyes followed his hand as it reached deep into the folds of his other arm. After digging for a few moments, he produced, one by one, an Ace, a Queen, Three Jacks, and a pair of Tens. He wiggled his ears sheepishly. "Sometimes I cheat at cards." 

Spike snorted. "I could have told you that." 

"And I don't usually play for goldfish. I play for kittens." 

Dawn and Tara gasped, horrified. 

Clem took a deep gulp of air before broaching his final revelation. "And finally..." He hid his head in his hands. "My favorite show is Star Trek: Voyager." 

Spike shook his head. "Well, there goes our friendship, mate." 

"Yeah." Xander added, "Everyone knows the best one is DS9."

The whole room tried to pretend like the whole thing had never happened. Clem hung his head in shame. 

Slowly, Sophie turned towards him and began to pat his shoulder. "It's okay, Clem." She assured him. "That was very brave of you." 

Clem turned to smile at her, tears glistening in his eyes. "Oh, you all are the best friends I have ever had!" 

Buffy hid her smile behind her empty cup. "Thank you, Clem, for your honesty. Now, we don't have all night. Or, well, we do, but we should keep on truckin'." 

"Cake. Have we had cake yet? Maybe we should have cake." Xander reached for his plate. 

"Is that a volunteer I hear?" Buffy snickered. "And we already had cake."  

"What? No! Oh, fine. I'll go next." He was suddenly fascinated by the third button down on his shirt. "Let's see –" 

Anya's irritation increased with every intriguing button. "Come on Xander, out with it. If you can't share, then I will." 

Xander's mouth formed a surprised little 'o.' "Do you have something to say, Honey?" 

"Yes. No." Anya twisted her hands. "I don't want to say anything, but if it's the only way to get out of this damn house." She peered at Dawn. "You sure you got the words exactly right?" 

"I'm sure."

"Okay, then." Anya turned to Xander. "Honey, I think you're getting fat." 

Xander nearly choked. "W – What?" 

"You keep eating all these chips! And cookies! And now you want cake! I love you and you have a very nice body, and I don't want it to go away. Especially before we take the wedding pictures. Also, having sweets around is a big temptation for me." 

"Oh." 

Willow stifled a giggle. 

"Why do you keep eating so much junk food?" Anya asked.  

Xander sucked in air, then let it out slowly. "If I'm being honest..." 

Anya froze.   

"It's because I'm nervous." 

"Nervous?" Anya's voice squeaked on the 'e.' "What do you have to be nervous about?" 

Xander reached forward to take another cookie, but stopped just in time. "You see? I'm just a little nervous about the wedding. It's such a big day and –" 

"You don't really want to marry me. I knew it. That's why you took so long to tell everyone about us. You hate the idea of me growing old and flabby. So you're making yourself old and flabby instead!" Anya balled a napkin between her hands and threw it at him. "How is that fair?" 

"That's not it at all!" He touched Anya's chin. "Look at me." 

She faced him. 

"I love you, Anya. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't." 

"But you're scared of me." 

"Well, we are kind of trapped in here because of a _vengeance_ wish. Your former trademark?" 

Anya's face darkened. "So you're scared to marry me because I was a demon." 

"No. I'm scared to marry you because you're not a demon anymore. You're human, and you're fragile, and everything we do is so dangerous." He rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm afraid of losing you." 

"You won't lose me. I'm right here. And what if I'm scared of losing you too? You work construction all day, and spend all the rest of your time helping Buffy." Anya glanced at her friend. "No offense." Anya's hands came to rest on Xander's. "But we get to spend _whatever_ time we have _together_ , no matter how long. Isn't that why we're getting married?"

"But what if getting married isn't enough. " Xander pulled his hands out of hers. "What if it ruins everything?"   

"Ruins?" Anya grew angry. "How could spending your life with the woman you love _ruin_ everything?" 

"That's not what I meant." Xander sputtered. "I meant _I_ could ruin everything." 

"Oh, is that what you meant? And how would you ruin everything? Would you cheat on me?" 

"No!"

"Beat me?" 

"Never!" 

"Embezzle my money or stop having sex with me?" 

"Of course not, but –" 

"Then I don't see what you're so afraid of." 

Xander sighed. "I just don't know what the future holds." 

"I don't either. I'm terrified of what it means to grow old as a human; to get ugly and fat and lose my sex drive. To think you may not want me anymore. But we deal, Xander. We have to. And we do it together."

Xander relaxed. He settled his arm around Anya's shoulders and looked back out at his audience. "Okay. I think we've had our turn." 


	9. Mending Fences

The room felt empty. Which was strange, because it was actually full of formerly-enthusiastic party-goers. Too bad they weren't so enthusiastic, now that the party was more True Confessions and less Animal House. Richard had gone off in a huff. Spike was slouched so hard against the door, it looked like he was trying to disappear through it.

"I can go next." Tara sat up a little straighter on the couch, looking more determined than she had all evening.

Buffy nodded to give her the go-ahead. She resisted the impulse to tap her foot on the carpet as she waited for her to begin.

Willow chewed her lip.

Tara looked her straight in the eye and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "You lied to us."

Willow's mouth fell open, but no sound escaped.

Buffy wished that she were sitting down, so that the floor wouldn't creak when her feet shifted. It seemed like every sound was magnified – the rustle of Spike's coat, the squeaky springs of Xander and Anya's love-seat – everything except for the words Willow wasn't saying.

"I – I'm sorry I have to say it in front of everyone. But I'm not sorry to say it. I j – just thought, I'd give you a chance to explain to us."

Xander scuffed the carpet with his shoe.

"It's not what you think," Willow hurried to explain. "I really, really wasn't going to use any of those supplies for magicks. They were a safety net. Just in case."

"In case Tara were here?" Hope laced Xander's words.

"No, not exactly." Willow wrung her hands. "I wish I could say that." Her hands stilled. "But no. I kept them for peace of mind. So that I could protect my friends, if I needed to – but I never _ever_ meant to use them." She turned all her attention to Tara. "I swear."

"I don't believe you. I think you kept them for yourself. So you could be in control."

"Tara, Magic is what made me _lose_ control. After the mess with Rack, I had to face the real me, and it wasn't pretty. I – I don't want to be that person anymore. I need you to believe me –"

"But you've lied to us before." Buffy's voice was icy.

The color drained from Willow's face.

"You keep lying to us. When is it going to stop, Will?"

Willow's mouth closed in a bitter line. "You're one to talk."

Buffy wrapped her arms around her body. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"All you do is keep secrets. Isn't that why Dawn made this wish?"

Dawn cringed in her corner of the couch.

Buffy's laugh was empty. "Everyone knows my secrets now. I don't have any left. You want to ask me about Spike? He's right there."

Willow's eyes watered, but no tears spilled. "That's not what I meant – look, I wasn't trying to – let's not do this now. All I'm trying to say is, you can trust me. I haven't fallen off the wagon, and I'll get rid of the magicks stuff we have left. For real this time."

"Or you could use them." Anya spoke out for the first time.

"Huh?" Willow gaped.

"You could use them. No offense, Tara, but you're not really powerful enough to break a vengeance curse, and Willow is. We're stuck in this house for who knows how long, and everyone thinks you've gone screwy anyway, so why don't you just say the heck with it and get us all out of here? Then we could be done with this touchy-feely crap and finally get some fresh air. And beer."

Willow's voice screeched. "I'm not gonna do that!"

"Why not? You can only go up from here."

"Because! It's the principle of the thing. I'm done with magicks for good. I'm not going to give up just because nobody trusts me or thinks I can make it. If I were going to do that, I'd have given up when I spent all day with a tapioca flavored traffic cone, when Xander assumed I'd turned Buffy all blinvisible!"

"Blinvisible?" Spike asked.

"Calm down, Sweetie,” Tara said. "Tensions are just running a little high, that's all. No one is going to make you do anything."

"I can't calm down." Willow stood up, gasping for air. "Why can't anybody trust me? I can't keep doing this alone."

Buffy crossed the room to Willow's chair by the couch and laid a hand on her shoulder. "You're not alone, Will."

Xander joined them, pulling them both into a tight hug. "None of us are."

Dawn crawled over to Tara's end of the couch and laid her head on her lap, stroking her hand with her own. Tara took Dawn's hand and squeezed.

Spike kicked the rug and walked out of the room.

~

A few minutes later Buffy, Xander, Anya, Dawn and Spike had gathered around the kitchen island. Everyone needed a break from the living room. Sophie and Clem had disappeared somewhere, maybe into the dining room with Richard, and Willow and Tara had stayed back. Xander and Anya hovered near each other, but kept refusing to look each other in the eye.

Buffy contemplated the players in the room and made a mental checklist. Four – no – seven down, three to go. God, if only that could be two to go. If only she could get out of this with her dignity intact. Maybe they'd let her hash things out privately with Spike, maybe – oh. She'd kinda forgotten to factor in her sister. In particular, what and who she'd want to talk about.

Dawn sat, kicking her legs on a stool by the counter, contemplating the remains of a red velvet cake with the letters "Ha B Buf y" on it. Someone had been picking at the frosting.

Buffy squinted. If you sounded it out it sorta sounded like "happy Buffy." Except that scenario wasn't likely to happen anytime soon. And blood red? Fitting cake for a Vampire Slayer.

Dawn kicked the island harder, making red crumbs spray of red - don’t need this across its surface.

"Hey, Dawnie," Buffy ventured, crossing the room to stand next to her. "Your turn. What do you need to get off your chest?"

Dawn continued to kick as if she hadn't heard. When the knife started to clatter, that was the last straw.

Buffy's hand came down on Dawn's leg briefly. "It was your wish, so spill."

Dawn turned to face her sister. "Why should I? It's not like you're so eager to heave your guts. And why shouldn't you be? You've got all your favorite people right here in one place." She glared at Spike.

Spike leaned over the sink and pulled out a cigarette, tucking it between his lips but not lighting it.

Wait, what happened here? Wasn't Little Miss Spill-your-Guts-out practically dying to have a heart-to-heart just a few hours ago? Be all sisterly and bond over the pain and the boys and the trauma? "What gives?"

"Wha?" Dawn jerked up again.

"What gives? I thought you wanted to get it all out? It's sharing time, so share."

"I'm not the one who needs to share. I made the wish for you guys." Dawn folded her arms over her chest.

Xander and Anya had drifted off to the corner, whispering heatedly. Buffy wasn't sure if they were having a fight or if the talk was a prelude to them slipping away for seven minutes in Heaven.

Dawn snapped her fingers to get Buffy's attention back. "Over here?"

"What do you want me to say, Dawn? You know everything now. It's not a secret anymore."

"I don't know anything. Like why you were with Spike in the first place. Or why you're not with him anymore. Or why you couldn't tell me about it."

Spike shifted, still facing partly away, but Buffy could tell he was hanging on to every word.

"Look, Spike and I... it's complicated."

Dawn snorted. Spike growled a little. Even Xander and Anya stopped their heated exchange on the other side of the small kitchen.

"It is!" Buffy hesitated, picking her words carefully. "I made some mistakes."

Spike huffed.

"Big mistakes. And I hoped that none of you would find out before I stopped making them."

"You sure made them a lot." Spike pulled out his lighter, flicked it on, then closed it again, frustrated.

Buffy ignored him. "I didn't want to be that kind of an example to you, but I was going through such a hard time."

"Because you were in Heaven." Dawn didn't dance around the word.

"Yes."

"So what, sleeping with Spike was like being in Heaven in again?" Dawn asked.

Spike's lip curled with some emotion– maybe a sick sort of pride, maybe a wistful regret.

Buffy wasn't sure she could bear either.

"No." She was firm. "There's nothing on earth like Heaven. I just wanted to forget."

Xander choked.

"I guess I decided to self-medicate. But it didn't work. I can't afford to forget everything in my life. I was trying to forget Heaven, and instead I started forgetting about earth." Buffy brushed her fingers against Dawn's shoulder. "It wasn't fair to you. Any of you."

Spike didn’t appear to react. He concentrated on his unlit cigarette, pulling it out of his mouth and tossing it in the sink, but his fingers shook as he pulled out another.

"So, that's why I did it. And that's why it's over."

Dawn slumped back. "I guess that makes sense, in the kind of way that doesn't. I guess this is the part when you tell me that I'll understand better when I'm older."

"I hope to God you don't." Buffy withdrew her hand.

Dawn fixed herself a piece of cake and Buffy poured herself the last cold can of Tab from the ice-bowl on the counter. The silence only lasted a moment.

Xander spoke. "Looks like you're last, Bleach Boy. What deep dark secret are you not dying to get out?"

Morning was coming. Spike drew the curtains at the window over the sink, then turned around. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

 _Please don't be about me. Please don't be about me. Please don't be about me._

"It's about Buffy, of course."

 _Shoot._

Spike set the second cigarette down by the sink, its tip soggy but still unlit. "My whole sodding unlife is about Buffy."

"Well, duh," said Xander. "Anything specific? And God, I can't believe I just asked you that."

Anya soothed him, running her fingers through his hair.

"If you must know, there's something I've never told her. Something she should know. Though, I wish she didn't have to." Spike scowled at Dawn.

Dawn stuck her tongue out at Spike.

Great. He probably created another Buffybot and was planning a threesome, or something totally gross like that.

"Buffy." Spike turned, his eyes only for her. "That night. The first night we – before I saw you, I thought the chip had stopped working."

"What?" Xander crossed the room toward Spike, ready to restrain him if necessary.

Buffy froze, but still managed to mitigate his reaction. "The chip still works, Xander. I've seen it." She ran her hands through her hair, exhausted. Immature teenage wishes or no, certain aspects of Spike's chip-failure were so not going to be on the discussion table this evening.

"It damn well does, Handyman. Don't you worry your pretty little head." Spike patted the air near the vicinity of Xander's head.

Xander gave a sort of half-snort.

Spike barreled on. "Anyway, before I knew that for sure, I decided to try a little experimenting. Found myself a ripe piece, down on Main street. Lured her into an alley, wasn't hard, what with my good looks and devastating charm. Could smell the blood rushing through the vein on her neck. Smell her fear. God, it was delicious."

Buffy's stomach churned. She'd been sleeping with him. For months. And he did this the night they... she couldn't think about it.

"Got right up close to her. She tried to convince me that I wasn't a bad man, that I wasn't evil. It didn't work."

Buffy stared at the kitchen trash can without blinking, not sure if she wanted to hurl or hurl it at him instead.

"But when I tried to bite her, I stopped."

"You mean the chip stopped you," Xander said.

"No, you nit." Spike stopped to consider. "Well, yeah, actually. The chip did go off. But that wasn't the whole of it. I couldn't go through with it. Had to stop, talk myself into into it." Spike stopped, clenching his hands into half-fists, and stared at them as if they weren't his own. "Girl shouldn't have gotten a word in edgewise."

"So, what, you decided you couldn't suck a normal girl dry so you'd come fu — find me instead?" Buffy's fist clenched at her side, but Spike's nose remained unbroken for the moment.

"No! God. You're getting it all wrong." Spike threw his hands in the air. "I wasn't sure I wanted to kill her. I had a warm, willing body in front of me and I _wasn't sure_! Don't you see what you've done to me? I thought the chip was out. I wanted blood, hell, I always want it. But I wasn't sure I wanted her dead."

Buffy bit her lip, hard enough to taste blood. "It was the chip. You were afraid you'd still get zapped."

"No, you dozy bint. Okay, maybe I'd have talked myself into it — sunk my fangs into her and enjoyed a drop or two, but I don't think I'd have gone through with it. I don't think I'd have killed the girl."

Spike rounded the kitchen island and reached for a loose strand of hair by her ear, but Buffy pulled away. He settled for her arm instead, gripping her harshly. "I was angry, yeah, but I'm not a complete idiot. I know you couldn't let me get away with it."

"You say that now," Buffy said.

"Yeah. I say that now. After you've ripped my un-beating heart out of my chest and stomped it into millions of pieces. If there were ever a better time for me to get my revenge, don't you think it'd be now? Buffy, I'm done with all that. I love you. That's not gonna change."

"I believe you think you so. I believe you think you weren't sure. I even believe that you think you hesitated for love. But I'm not so sure you wouldn't kill someone if you had the chance."

Buffy took Spike in: his barely concealed anger and frustration; his broad fingers twitching as they clamped down on her hard enough to leave bruises. She took it all in, sighed and tucked the strand of hair behind her ear. "But it's something... that you told me, even if you kinda had to. Thank you."

Spike's hold loosened, fingers tracing her skin as he pulled away.

"But, Spike, if you ever do something like that again, chip or no chip. I will stake you."

Xander let out a little puff of air, while Dawn tried to hide her squeak. Anya was impassive.

Spike looked shaken, but he nodded and stepped away.

~

The whole gang returned to the living room. Everyone looked paler, including Spike. Buffy's back was rigid. Willow and Tara still sat next to each other, but didn't touch. Even Richard had ventured in from his makeshift sanctuary in the dining room.

Buffy the Birthday Girl took charge once again. "I think we've all shared our fair share of secrets this evening, yes?" Her smile was bright as it was fake. "I think it's time we tried Mister Door again, see if he's an accommodating gentleman. Who would like to do the honors?"

"I think it should be you, Buff." Xander raised his hand. "It is your party."

"Alrighty, then. Let's do this thing." She strode up to the door with confidence, laid her hand firmly on the handle, and twisted. It promptly fell to the floor with a thunk. She groaned. "I thought we fixed the door."

"Uh, yeah, we did, Buffy." Xander looked sheepish. "Or, I did, to be specific. It should have held its own."

Not against Slayer strength, apparently." Buffy frowned down at the useless brass lump. "So I'm guessing that means the truth-telling wasn't enough. We're not free."

Anya wrinkled her brow. "If the curse isn't lifted, and Willow won't help, the only thing left to do is summon Hallie. She won't like it, but she has to break the spell. We've got bridesmaids in here – not to mention the bride." Anya cleared a space between the coffee table and the opening to the foyer. "I think I can remember the chant."

As Anya began muttering to herself about streams and flowing and reeds in the wind, Buffy moved back into the living room. Just as she reached the threshold, a fierce gust of wind blew through the room, whipping her hair around her face.

Anya's voice rose above the gale. "Halfrek, bringer of justice, we call upon you. Blessed sister of the Erinyes. Cherished daughter of D'Hoffryn. We bend in the flow of the reed on the wind. We kneel in supplication. Hear us, Oh Ancient One. Grant us our plea! Halfrek, bringer of justice, come!"

The room went dark.


End file.
